MASTERMIND | Jamie Tartt

FORTY EIGHT: CRUSH CULTURE

"Happy Zava day," Billie smirked as Jamie's eyes fluttered open, the morning sun dancing over his skin as he lay on his stomach beside her in her bed.

"Fuck off," Jamie mumbled as he leant forward to kiss her.

"You gonna be a good boy today?" Billie hummed, running a hand through his highlighted hair, pushing the loose strands out of his face.

"For you? Yeah," Jamie sighed as he rested his head on Billie's chest, wrapping his arms around her waist, "For everyone else? That depends."

"Today's going to be fun, J," Billie assured him as she toyed with his messy hair, "Training's been cancelled for this Zava event, gives you a rest day."

"I don't want a rest day," Jamie huffed, as he looked up at Billie with those eyes that made her immediately weak, "I want to be better."

It was the truth, Jamie had been intent on becoming an even greater footballer since Richmond's promotion at the end of the last season. It was why he'd been working out six days a week, eating salads and drinking protein shakes. He wasn't obsessive with it, just dedicated, not because he thought it would make him marketable if he wanted to move in the next transfer window (because he didn't want to leave), because he wanted to be the best.

He did have one goal that he hoped to achieve that year, he wanted to be selected for Gareth Southgate's England squad, and Jamie knew that he needed to be seen as a strong, capable and reliable team player to achieve that.

"Just don't work yourself too hard, alright?" Billie whispered, kissing the top of his head, "I love you just as you are."

"Yeah, but what if I can't keep up?" Jamie chose to voice the doubts that had been fluttering around inside his head like birds in a cage since Zava's transfer was announced, he could trust Billie, he knew that.

"I don't think there's any danger of that, babe," Billie insisted, because she had seen Jamie on the pitch, she'd seen how agile he was, how he commanded the ball when it was at his feet.

"We aren't going to need three strikers, what if they get rid of-"

"Jamie," Billie sat up straight, encouraging him to do the same, "You are not going to lose your spot on the team just because Zava's here, we had two aces up our sleeve, and now we've got three."

"But-"

"J, you worked so fucking hard to better yourself and return to your spot on the team, you fucking deserve to be where you are, I know that, Roy knows that, the fans know that, deep down you know it too," Billie insisted, because she really wanted him to believe in himself the way he usually did, "And Zava being here doesn't fucking change any of that, okay?"

"You're the wisest fucking person I know," Jamie sighed with a slight smile, kissing her forehead, "Thank you."

"You never have to thank me for loving you," Billie soothed, running her hand over his cheekbone, "It's not a chore to love you, Jamie Tartt."

Billie didn't quite know just how much Jamie needed to hear those words, but he really did. Until Billie, his mother had been the only person to make him feel like loving him wasn't an ordeal, and on some of his lowest days as a teenager, he had wondered if his mother only loved him out of some sort of motherly obligation. But as he got older, he realised that his mother loved him for who he was, because she stuck around, and Billie stuck around too.

"Right," Billie quickly pecked his lips with a kiss, "I'm going to make us breakfast, you just do what you need to do to get ready, pretty boy."

"You're magic, Billie Kent," Jamie sighed as he laid back on the bed, watching Billie climb off of the bed, slipping Jamie's hoodie on with a pair of shorts.